Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X #1)(45)
Author: Richelle Mead

Blinking out of her own troubled thoughts, she focused back on the dance floor. She couldn’t see Justin, but she could make out a few people standing around, looking at something on the floor. One of the gathered people shifted slightly away from whatever they all were watching, and Mae caught a glimpse of the jacket Justin had been wearing earlier. Her adrenaline spiked. She sprinted over to the gathered people, none of whom seemed in any particular hurry to act or move. Her stomach lurched as her worst fears were realized. It was Justin, sprawled on the floor, eyelids barely open as his breathing came fast and shallow. Alive—for now. As she quickly knelt down beside him, she wondered just how much trouble she’d get into if he died.

CHAPTER 13

TWO PERCENT

Justin opened his eyes and promptly closed them again—the light hurt too much. He waited a few moments and then decided to try again, this time using his hand to shade his eyes. Even that small amount of motion was uncomfortable. The muscles in his body felt limp and sore. The view above him revealed nothing, as that’s where the light source was, and only made him close his eyes again. With great effort, he tried to shift his body over and look to the side. He was on some kind of hard, uncomfortable bed, and his body complained against it accordingly.

Still keeping his eyes shaded, he blinked rapidly and tried to bring the room into focus around him. The walls gleamed dully in an inoffensive shade of taupe, and a large dark square hung nearby, which he assumed was a window. There was someone standing near it, appearing only as a shadowy figure. That figure approached, and he could start to discern more tangible features: lean body, golden hair. His Valkyrie.

“Hey,” he said, surprised when his own voice had difficulty coming out. There was a strange taste in his mouth. “What’s new?”

“You’re an idiot.” His angry Valkyrie.

“That’s not really new.” She stood in focus now. Her face looked strained, and most of her hair had fallen out of its ponytail. “What happened?” Then, before she could reply: “A bad trip?”

She nodded. “What were you thinking? You could’ve killed yourself!”

“Hey, it was good stuff. Really good.” It had been. In addition to making him feel like he was made of that spun-sugar stuff that kids ate at the Anchorage summer market, it had also distorted his vision so that everything around him was edged in color. Glittering people, ringed in brightly hued auras, left trails of colored light when they moved.

She didn’t answer, still keeping her face void of expression, and he somehow felt their relationship had just regressed about two years. At the same time, he had the startling sense that she’d actually been worried about him.

“I had no idea my job would involve protecting you from yourself,” she added. “How can someone so smart be so stupid?”

Excellent question, said Magnus.

How could he be so stupid? Well, it was easy because it was hard for him to say no. When it came to the pleasures of life, he had a tendency to think that if one was good, ten were better.

“I don’t care how futile the mission seems right now,” she continued angrily. “You want to fix things? You want to stay in the country? Then go solve this case! Don’t go drown yourself in drugs and self-pity!”

Her words brought back the dismal state of the mission, Cornelia’s threats, and Callista’s disappearance. That was more than enough to make someone seek blissful oblivion, that and—

“Have you ever not wanted to think?”

Her hard expression turned puzzled. “What?”

He shifted from her and stared up at the ceiling. “I think a lot, Mae. I see a lot. And my brain’s always analyzing every detail, over and over and over. This case. Me staying in the RUNA. That church. You.” He sighed. “I can’t shut my brain off. It’s like a hamster wheel. It’s why I take stuff to sleep.”

“I thought you took stuff to sleep because you loaded up on stimulants in the morning.” Her contempt was nearly tangible, but rather than summon his knee-jerk reaction to castal airs, it made him feel…unworthy.

Did I do anything I shouldn’t have? he asked the ravens.

Overdosing? suggested Horatio.

You know what I mean.

You propositioned her, replied the raven.

Did I? Justin didn’t remember that. He remembered very little past dosing with the gates of paradise. From his current state, he must’ve done it more than once. How’d it go? I mean, I know the result, seeing as I’m in this bed instead of hers.

You were very eloquent, said Horatio. A real poet. I would’ve gone home with you.

You offered her the crown, said Magnus much more seriously.

A sinking feeling welled up in Justin’s stomach. He was used to doing all sorts of stupid behaviors following a high, but it had never occurred to him that he could’ve accidentally stumbled into the very thing he wanted to avoid. Now that he was somewhat clearheaded, and in the path of that condescending gaze that stung so much, it was easy to resist her. It was a relief that she was still in full possession of her hatred and plebeian disdain.

“If I ever hit on you again,” he said, “you have my permission to punch me.”

That, she hadn’t expected. “Why on earth would you say that?”

Because if I sleep with you again, I’ll be bound into the service of an unknown god.

“Because you’ve made your Nordic-nine preferences perfectly clear. And I need to respect that.”

He hadn’t thought much about the last comment and simply wanted to keep her away. He wasn’t trying to be noble. Instead, something unexpected flashed over her face.

You just improved two percent in her view, noted Horatio. That’s the first personal comment you’ve made that doesn’t make you come across as an ass**le. The raven sounded pleased, but of course he would. He and his counterpart wanted a reconciliation.

Magnus wasn’t so optimistic. It’s going to take more than your fixing that damage to get her again. I told you before, gods follow her. One goddess in particular. You need to help Mae break free, for her own good. You saw how she gets seized in battle.

The darkness, admitted Justin. He’d seen it, an almost tangible shadow that surrounded her when she fought.

It happens because gods can’t communicate with her in the normal way.

What way is that?

Dreams.

Why not? asked Justin.

You tell me, said Magnus.

Justin immediately realized the answer. Because she doesn’t sleep.